


The Neverending Story of Pride and Prejudice

by KaliopeShipsIt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, Bookstore!AU, F/M, Hale Family Feels, Human Derek Hale, Hurt Derek, M/M, Stiles is keeping secrets, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his mother's death Derek is struggling to keep his family's little book store afloat, an almost impossible task considering that a new location of the new national mega book store chain Red Riding Hood is about to open only a block away from his business. </p><p>One day, Stiles seemingly wanders into his store by accident and the two quickly bond over their shared love of books, favorite childhood stories, and past losses. Things are going well, until Derek finds out what Stiles actually does for a living ...</p><p>A Sterek version of "You've Got Mail" ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cherries and Pistachios

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not put my stuff on Goodreads. I was not aware that part of my stories were on there and I am not comfortable with having my fan fics circulated out of my control. 
> 
>  
> 
> A cute little plot-bunny hopped into my head and asked "Would you like to start a new multi-chapter fic and write a Book Store!AU" and I said "Yes please". 
> 
> Cue, introductory chapter full of fluff and loving shout outs to my favorite books growing up (shamelessly exploiting my protagonists for meta commentary, it's a thing y'all).
> 
> P.S: Oh and thanks to the lovely Commenter "Pissed Off" I have learned that apparently there was a movie in 1998, when I was like 12 and didn't watch that stuff yet, called "You've Got Mail" which has a very similar plotline. So feel yourself duly informed that apparently this is based on this film (that I've never seen) ;-).

When the little bell hanging above the door went off, signaling the arrival of a new customer, Derek shivered. It was yet another cold day in Wisconsin, complete with unforgiving wind chills, and Derek frowned when the new arrival did not close the door quickly but let it fall shut slowly. He seemed riveted by his surroundings and was just standing in the middle of the room. Derek took his stare to mean that he was impressed by what he was seeing and his frown slowly melted from his face.

Shaking his head, and attempting a genuine smile, Derek stepped away from the counter and walked towards the guy, who was slowly peeling off his scarf, gloves, and hat, revealing a man who was slightly younger than Derek and definitely attractive. His eyes were indeed round with wonderment as he took in the antique book shelves, filled to bursting with even older looking volumes, the fireplace in the back of the room with the two arm chairs and the small coffee table filled with books standing right in front of it.

“Welcome to _Neverending Story of Pride and Prejudice_ , how may I help you?” Derek asked and the customer barked a surprised laugh in response. Derek’s eyebrows rose in confusion. He wasn’t sure he had said anything that warranted a laugh, but the man already held up his hands to explain. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to laugh at you, I just didn’t look at the name of the store before I decided it looked warm and cozy and I really needed to get out of the cold.”

Derek felt his smile slowly slip from his face. Of course the guy wasn’t a customer, but yet another victim of the Wisconsin winter who had decided to rub Derek’s lack of business into his face. He knew it was almost a moot point by now, but he just couldn’t help himself for being disappointed that the guy had not come inside for the books. The reason why Derek was currently alone and not joined by his assistant Erica was that the store had barely had five customers this week and as much as he adored the quirky sales girl, he just couldn’t afford paying her for sitting around and doing nothing. He had felt bad when he had cut her hours nearly in half, but Erica had been quite understanding about it, which, Derek assumed, probably had a lot to do with the fact that she had gotten a second job at a coffee house a month ago and was majorly crushing on one of her co-workers. Derek had yet to coax his name out of her, but he felt fairly sure that if he were to surprise Erica at her other job, it would not be hard to single out Mr. “Tall, Dark and Ruggedly Stoic” among her colleagues.

“You don’t normally frequent bookstores then?” Derek asked, chiding himself for sounding so bitter – and possibly even hostile – and the man actually looked affronted for a second. “Of course I do! I really didn’t mean to laugh at you; I am totally digging the name! Had I actually seen it, I would have rushed in here and declared my intention of marriage for whoever came up with it! It is, after all, a truth universally acknowledged that any young man – or woman – of a sane mind should be acquainted with lovely Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, whom I will add was my knight in shining amour growing up.”

Derek blinked, taken aback both by the fact that the guy actually liked books and the rambling length of the answer. “Oh that’s … well, that’s great then. Feel free to take a look around.” Derek sighed internally. That had come out sounding the opposite of confident salesman, but Stiles shook his head, his face slowly breaking out into a smile as his gaze zeroed in on the _Neverending Story_ edition Derek kept on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “No need, I think I just found a way to keep myself entertained and warm up in the process.” Derek blinked again as the man marched over to the green armchair, took off his coat, hung it over the armrest and let himself fall into the cushion, long limbs stretched out in every direction and sighing contentedly.

“This is a beautiful cover”, he remarked, long fingers reverently tracing the golden Auryn embroidered on the front, which was so similar to the one they had used in the movie. Derek found himself distracted by the long digits for a moment, admiring the way he seemed to actually cherish the literary work in front of him. It was one of Derek’s favorites and he definitely appreciated the guy’s enthusiasm.

“It belonged to my mom,” Derek found himself saying, a little surprised at his willingness to share something so personal with this random stranger. “She used to read it to me when I was younger and once I became old enough to read books myself, she took it to the store because she felt that there were many other children who should snuggle into comfortable cushions, listen to the beauty of this story, and imagine they were flying on Falkor’s back.”

The young man smiled affectionately and did just that, sinking deeper into the cushions and letting out another happy sigh.

“She would read it to the children who came in here,” Derek continued, moving towards the other armchair and sitting down opposite of the man. It wasn’t like there were any other customers coming and he was feeling strangely nostalgic all of a sudden.

“We used to have extra pillows and the children would just sit down on the floor and listen to her. My mother had a little chalkboard that used to hang on the wall over there and whenever she would finish a chapter of the book, she would take down the name suggestions the children had for the Childlike Empress. My mother got ill a couple of years ago and no longer had the energy to read, but she would still come into the store, sit down next to the fireplace, and make me read to the children. She loved seeing the looks of wonder on their faces when they imagined what Atreyu, Urgl and Engywook, Morla the Aged One or the Gmork would look like.”

The young man opposite of him playfully shuddered and he grinned, his eyes lightening up at the subject. “I remember the Gmork! He used to scare me so badly as a child! It was bad enough reading about him but then I saw the movie and I wasn’t able to sleep for a week after. I would lie in bed and imagine the darkness of the night was the Nothing and every time a car would pass by my window its lights would reflect on the wall of my bedroom and I thought it was the Gmork hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce!”

He laughed, shaking his head at himself. “It took me _years_ until my best friend Scott was able to convince me to watch another movie that included a werewolf. Give me zombies, vampires, evil-spider monsters or three-headed aliens with slimy tentacles and I’ll be fine. Show me a picture of a werewolf and my pulse still speeds up.”

He let go of the book and held out his hand towards Derek, who gripped it automatically. “I’m Stiles, by the way,” the man said and Derek’s lips curled into a fond smile.

“I’m Derek. Derek Hale. I own this place,” Derek said and winced internally. Stiles had probably already figured out that part.

“And a lovely place it is,” Stiles grinned. “The name is a tad long, but my inner bookworm is still crying happy tears over the combination of two such glorious books, so that’s quite alright with me, even though it is probably a bit of a hassle to fill out the tax forms every year.”

Derek surprised himself again by laughing and he regarded Stiles with amusement twinkling in his eyes. “My father thought so, too, but my mother was determined that a store selling long, magnificent books should have a long, magnificent name. My younger sister once tried to shorten it to NESPP and my mother sent her to bed without dessert. She made a delicious cherry-pistachio pudding, so that was a very big punishment in our family.”

Stiles laughed as well. “That sounds amazing. My own mother used to make me a cherry-vanilla pudding pie for my birthday and one day I told her that there were an infinite number of parallel universes out there and in every one of them there was a Stiles having his birthday and because of that she needed to make me an infinite number of pies as well. I was 8 and I was having a serious _Star Trek_ phase. I had just seen the mirror universe episode. My mom was already very ill at the time and I think part of me thought that if she knew that she had to make me an infinite number of pies then she wouldn’t even think about dying.”

The smile on Stiles’ face dimmed slightly, a heaviness settling over his features that Derek unfortunately understood all too well.

“I never got another cherry-vanilla pudding pie because my mom died two weeks before my ninth birthday. My dad tried to make one but he forgot to add the sugar and the pudding tasted terrible, then he burned the crust because he forgot to set the timer and when I tried to cut a piece out of the pie-dish I accidentally knocked it to the floor and there was pudding, cherries, and broken glass everywhere. I guess that was strangely poetic, given how broken my dad and me felt at the time … anyways, I haven’t had one since.”

Derek smiled wistfully, remembering the day Laura had tried to recreate his mother’s pudding recipe, which Talia Hale had made from scratch and never gotten around to writing down, and eventually ended up sobbing over the green gooey mass she had produced. He told Stiles as much and the younger man’s smile turned wistful as well. “It sucks,” he said plainly and Derek wholeheartedly agreed. He regarded Stiles with curious intensity, marveling at how easy it was to talk to him.  

Derek did not open up to people easily, especially not since he had lost his mother and been betrayed by his girlfriend all within the space of two months a couple of years ago. The closeness he felt to Stiles both scared and intrigued him, considering that he had only met the man not even an hour ago.

He took in the warmth in the brown eyes that were focused on him, the affectionate smile that was still playing around Stiles’ lips, the moles that dotted his fair skin, and the slender hands that never seemed to stop moving completely. Derek wanted to curl up next to Stiles on the couch, run his fingers through his hair and read some of his favorite books to him. He also kind of wanted to kiss him senseless, amongst other, more physically involved things.

Yes, Derek was definitely scared and intrigued.

He must have stared at him too long, because Stiles leaned forward with a mischievous smile, his elbows planted on his knees and his chin resting on his knuckles.

“Like what you see?” he asked warmly, and Derek scratched at his ear, face flushing with embarrassment at having been caught staring.

“What if I do?” he found himself responding and Stiles grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

“Well, if you did, I would probably ask you to go to dinner with me tomorrow night. You know, to talk more about books and … stuff.” He was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Derek couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Stuff?” he repeated, and Stiles nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, stuff. It’s always good to talk about stuff. Only the good stuff, though, the interesting stuff.”

“How could I pass up on what sounds like an evening of riveting conversation,” Derek deadpanned, his heart suddenly beating against his chest, and he allowed himself to smile in relief when Stiles’ grin widened.

“It’s a date!” he cheerfully proclaimed, before untangling himself from the armchair and stretching his limbs. His shirt rose up in the process and Derek got a nice view of a smooth, slightly freckled stomach before Stiles pulled his shirt back down and put on his jacket again.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked and Derek nodded, forcing himself to keep the smile on his face as he thought about yet another useless day spent in an empty store. At least Erica would be working tomorrow and he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

“Great. I will be in the area tomorrow around 6:30 PM, does that work with your closing time?”

It didn’t, technically, the store was supposed to be open until 7:00 PM on a Friday, but, Derek reasoned, it wasn’t like he would have to turn away a disappointed customer by closing a bit early.

“That works for me,” he responded, and Stiles beamed.

“Awesome. I will pick you up at 6:30 then.”

Stiles made his way back to the front of the store as he talked and Derek followed him, unsure of what was going to happen next. Should he shake Stiles’ hand? Hug him? Shaking his hand after they had just agreed to go out on a date seemed too formal, but hugging was too personal for someone he had literally just met, despite their obvious connection.

Stiles decided to end Derek’s dilemma by gently taking his hand and turning it so that he could press a soft, barely-there kiss to the back of it, eyes sparkling with affection when he straightened back up and took in Derek’s dumbfounded expression.

“In situations where I find myself at a loss as to what to do I always ask myself, what would Mr. Darcy do … and I am quite confident that after successfully initiating a courtship, a hand kiss among gentlemen would be absolutely acceptable. Am I right?” For the first time, a little hint of insecurity entered Stiles’ voice and Derek, still at a loss for words, felt only capable of nodding. Stiles flashed him another bright smile, before he put on his hat, scarf, and gloves and marched outside to brace the icy cold.

After the door had closed behind Stiles, Derek leaned back against the counter, exhaling and trying to calm his nerves.

It was definitely not like him to agree to go out on a date with a guy he had only just met and the last time he had decided to trust his instincts and open up to another person, he had been betrayed in a way that still made him feel nauseous when he thought about it. He hoped to whichever deity was listening that, this time, he could trust his instincts.

 

*******************

It was 6:25 PM the next day and Derek found himself slowly going out of his mind. He had restocked some of the shelves with newer books and arranged, then rearranged the little table that held some of the new young adult novels that were, according to Cora, all the rage these days. He had even found the time to dust, miserably failing to quell his bitterness when some of the thicker layers of dust had yet again reminded him that his family’s business was slowly failing.

At present he was pacing in circles, under the watchful eyes of Erica, who had spent ninety percent of her shift pressing him for information about the mystery guy he had decided to go out on a date with after not even an hour’s acquaintance.

His phone had buzzed multiple times over the past hours and Derek had decided to simply refuse to acknowledge his meddling sisters, who, after a text from his traitorous employee, had decided to start their own interrogations.

Most of the time Derek missed having his sisters around, with Laura working at a law firm in New York and Cora off to university at Berkeley, but today he was decidedly glad that they couldn’t just pop in to shameless spy on him and Stiles.

If he even showed up, that was.

“Derek, I really don’t think the store is making enough money for you to replace the carpet right now,” Erica drawled from where she was perched on the counter and Derek stopped, his hands fidgeting with his hair. This was getting ridiculous, he hadn’t been this nervous before a first date since High School. Heck he hadn’t ever been this nervous before a date even _in_ High School.

“And stop fidgeting with your hair, you’re just messing it up,” Erica continued to complain, but before Derek could sprint to the bathroom to check the damage, the little bell above the door rang and he turned around slowly, shoulders relaxing when he saw that it was Stiles.

The younger man’s face was flushed from the cold and he was grinning – it seemed to be his default expression. From the corner of his eye Derek could see Erica approach in a way that she undoubtedly considered to be subtle and stealthy, but to him resembled a growling lion ready to pounce on its prey. She definitely had the blonde mane to pull it off.

“Hi! I’m Erica,” she told Stiles slightly too forcefully, her hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ in an iron grip and pumping it firmly.

“Uh … hi?” Stiles replied, his gaze flicking between his mangled hand and Erica’s almost threatening glare. Apparently, she had been getting instructions from Laura and Cora all afternoon, because she seemed to be trying to make up for his current lack of overprotective sisters in his life. Derek sighed, deciding to swoop in and save Stiles’ hand from getting crushed. He had plans for this hand. Holding it, for example. Letting it glide all over his body as it explored and teased and … nope, he was definitely getting ahead of himself.

“We were just going, Erica,” he glared at her and Erica glared back, completely unimpressed. “Well, you boys behave yourself tonight, alright?” she shot at Stiles and Stiles nodded, obviously taken aback by the underlying threat.

His voice was just the slightest bit shaky when he replied: “Absolutely Ma’m, behaving is my specialty.” He took a deep breath, obviously getting ready to indulge in another bout of rambling – Derek didn’t know him very well yet, but he had a feeling that rambling was also part of Stiles’ special skills set – but before he could start Derek had already grabbed his elbow and gently steered him outside.

“Remember to lock up,” her told Erica over his shoulder as they exited the store and Erica huffed.

When they were safely standing outside the store, Stiles made eye contact with him and, after a second, burst into laughing. It was infectious and Derek couldn’t help but join.

“Holy crap!” Stiles exclaimed as they continued walking, his arm casually interlinking with Derek’s to prevent himself from slipping on the icy pavement. “If this is what your friends are like, I _never_ want to meet your sisters.”

Derek tried to keep his heart from fluttering, both because of the physical contact and the fact that Stiles _remembered_ he had sisters, meaning that he had actually paid attention to Derek the day before. Derek wasn’t stupid, he knew what he looked like, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to ignore what he was saying in favor of staring at him. So far, Stiles seemed to be completely unfazed by the fact that he was grabbing onto solid muscle and it made Derek cautiously hopeful that this could actually be _something_.

He didn’t know what exactly he wanted it to be yet, didn’t know Stiles well enough to figure it out at this point, but he did know that unless Stiles was going to be impolite to the waiter and completely self-absorbed during their dinner, Derek would be severely disappointed if this turned out to be a one-time thing.

“Don’t take it personally,” he replied, gently nudging Stiles to the left so they could avoid a patch that looked particularly slippery. “Erica has been taking interrogation lessons from my sisters for years and, coupled with her own fiery personality, that can make for an explosive combination.”

That, and the fact that Erica had been around for the fallout when Derek had gotten his heart broken and trampled on three years ago, but in terms of sharing that tidbit of information they definitely weren’t quite there yet.

The restaurant Stiles had chosen was about a ten minute walk away from the store and neither too fancy, nor a dump. It offered a large variety of mostly Southern style comfort food and Derek decided to order steak with a side of spinach and squash casserole, while Stiles went for the bacon macaroni and cheese with a sheepish grin.

“I never could resist homemade macaroni and cheese,” he explained and Derek smiled back at him, feeling himself relaxing more with every passing minute.

While they waited for their food Stiles decided to play his own version of 20 questions and Derek discovered that Stiles’ favorite color was red, that his jeep would always be the first love of his life, and that he had a best friend named Scott who apparently looked like a puppy with a crooked jaw. In return, Derek told Stiles more about his sisters, his embarrassing kindergarten crush on a little girl named Paige, who had decided to pants him in front of their entire grade, and revealed that this favorite color was red as well.

“That is definitely convenient,” Stiles decided, but before Derek could ask what he meant the food arrived and soon his attention was again focused on Stiles, who was essentially making love to his spoon with every bite. He was moaning over the flavor of the noodles and gingerly licking the rich cheese sauce off the spoon every time it touched his mouth.

Derek’s own food was good, but it was nothing compared to the sight and sounds of Stiles and he forced himself to look away, hoping his staring had gone unnoticed, and busied himself with carefully chewing the tender filet.

When he was finished, Stiles regarded him with a look of genuine affection, his long fingers tapping against the menu he had kept at their table.

“I hope you aren’t done yet, there’s a dessert that they make here which I have only heard good things about,” he said and Derek patted his stomach gingerly, deciding that he could definitely eat some dessert tonight. He blushed, when his mind inevitably went down the gutter again – it definitely had been way too long since he had last been out on a date – and Stiles grinned cockily, the tips of his ears blushing as well, when he took in Derek’s expression.

He signaled the waiter over and whispered to him behind the menu, making it impossible for Derek to hear what he had ordered. His curious gaze met Stiles’ and the man shook his head, smiling widely. “It’s a surprise.”

The surprise turned out to be a creamy pistachio pudding, decorated with sour cherries and a dash of whipped cream. Derek swallowed audibly and Stiles fidgeted with his hands, looking adorably nervous.

“Obviously this is not like your mom made it, but you know, I thought of this when you mentioned your mom’s recipe the other day and I know it’s not the same and I didn’t mean to overstep, but you know, I just thought since you obviously liked pistachio pudding and cherries that we could try this and well, I mean, I know it probably pales in comparison, but …”

Derek reached over the table to gently grasp Stiles’ hands, stilling them. He kept eye contact when he lifted Stiles’ right hand towards his lips and gently pressed his lips to the smooth skin, his nose nudging softly across Stiles’ wrist. He carefully placed his hand back on the table and his voice was only a bit shaky when he said: “I think Mr. Darcy would agree that a hand kiss among gentlemen sufficiently sends the message that this is perfect.”

Stiles’ hand touched Derek’s briefly and he exhaled, having obviously held in his breath after Derek had interrupted his nervous rambling. “Awesome! Race you to the bottom of the bowl?”

Derek laughed. He had grown up with Cora and Laura – Stiles didn’t stand a chance.

 

***************

It was almost ten when they left the restaurant, and once they were outside Stiles immediately interlinked his arm with Derek’s again, sighing contentedly as they slowly made their way back to the store, where Stiles had parked his car.

Derek felt more at peace than he had in a long time, and he was determined not to let anything sour his good mood, but he couldn’t help the bitter sigh that escaped him when they passed a large store decorated in “Opening Soon” posters.

Stiles turned towards him questioningly, his face partially hidden by his scarf and hat and Derek gestured at the store, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You know how you hear all these stories about Amazon forcing small local stores into going out of business by offering the lowest prices and convenient shipping? This is the store that is going to send _me_ out of business, probably sooner rather than later judging by the fact that I did not have a single customer today.”

They had stopped in front of the dark windows and a humorless laugh escaped Derek’s lips.

“It’s a bookstore chain called _Red Riding Hood_ , but I guess people are calling it _Red’s_ for short. They are opening up all over the country, their prices are much lower than anything I can offer and their online sales are apparently giving Amazon a run for its money.”

Stiles peered into the window as well and then turned towards Derek with an expression that Derek couldn’t quite place.

“Have you ever been to one?” he asked and Derek shook his head.

“Do you remember the movie _The Pagemaster_?” he asked and Stiles nodded, his eyes showing confusion.

Derek gave him a tight-lipped smile. “When the little boy gets to the library, the librarian takes one look at him and tells him what kind of a book he is looking for. He is very disappointed when the kid rejects his suggestions. To me, that is what bookstores are supposed to be like. Every time a customer came into _Neverending Story of Pride and Prejudice_ , my mother would take one look at him or her and immediately start making suggestions, making them feel welcome and at home as she helped them pick out just the perfect book for them. I don’t claim that my instincts are as good as my mom’s when it comes to what people are looking for, but these stores? They are all about profit, all about offering the goods at an ever better sale price. It’s impersonal and, in my opinion, it takes away a lot of the magic of reading.”

He resolutely tore his eyes away from the posters that signaled the opening date, trying not to think about how quickly the inevitable bankruptcy of his store was approaching, and continued walking. Stiles walked next to him, but instead of interlinking their arms again, his fists were shoved into his pockets.

“It’s not like I don’t understand the appeal, I do. The cheaper a book is the more books you can buy, especially when you’re on a small budget, and the fact that they also have coffee shops connected to every store certainly helps to draw in people as well. Yet, a big part of what I love about reading has always been sharing the experience with other people and my store helps me do that. It gives me the chance to interact with my customers, to get to know them and help them select the perfect book they need to maybe take a break from their own life, gain perspective, or just plainly make them happy. I could never do that if my main goal was to sell as many books as quickly as possible.”

They had come to another stop, this time in front of _Neverending Story of Pride and Prejudice_ , and Derek pulled Stiles to his side, his arm lightly draped across the slightly shorter man’s shoulders as he pointed towards the sign of the store.

“Do you see the luck dragon?” he asked and Stiles squinted before nodding, his face turning towards Derek with an expression that was half curious and half sad. “I’m sure you didn’t pay close attention to it when you were inside yesterday, but if you look carefully, you will find scenes from _The Neverending Story_ all over the store. Some are tiny drawings on the wall, some are carved into the sides of the wooden shelves and some are hidden behind the books, ready to be discovered. Every couple of months my mother would add a new scene, she wanted to make sure that the magic and wonder would always be kept alive.”

He turned to Stiles and smiled softly, the hand on his shoulders moving to lightly stroke the nape of his neck. Their faces were only partly illuminated by the streetlight, but Stiles’ eyes were suddenly very bright as he looked at Derek, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“That’s a good philosophy to live by,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual and Derek’s heart skipped a beat.

“The very best,” he agreed and when their lips met Derek forgot all about the cold and his dark mood, warmth spreading through his entire being when Stiles wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. It was a gentle kiss, without tongue but definitely with the promise of more and Derek gently suckled on Stiles’ lower lip before moving away, his forehead resting against Stiles’.

They stood like this for a while; wrapped in each other’s arms and when Derek felt the soft snowfall on his hair he couldn’t help but look up in wonder. The moment, as clichéd as it was, was absolutely magical.

 

***************

It was almost midnight when Stiles came home to his apartment. After standing outside in the cold for so long his limbs felt like frozen bricks, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

His happiness took a slight damper when he almost stumbled over a suitcase in the middle of the hallway and stubbed his big toe in the process. His pained yelp did not go unnoticed when the door to one of the bedrooms opened and Stiles’ roommate and best friend, Scott, guiltily peeked outside.

“Sorry, I was going to put that away but then Allison called me on Skype to make sure I had gotten home alright and I must have forgotten all about it.”

“Apparently so,” Stiles grumbled as he hopped to the couch in the living room and sank down into the cushions with a sigh.

“I don’t even know why I keep you around as a roommate when I could easily afford my own place … without any health hazards targeted towards me in the name of love,” he whined and Scott sat down next to him with a chuckle, his mind clearly still in Allison-La La-Land.

“You would be lost without me,” he declared and Stiles huffed, even though he knew that Scott’s assessment was probably completely true.

“Also, it makes running the business so much easier. By the way, look at what came in today!” Scott reached over the small coffee table to grab a little box, grinning when he waved the stack of business cards into Stiles’ face. “They turned out really well, I’m glad we decided to go with Lydia’s advice. These are going to come in handy at the grand opening of our next location. Speaking of, did you get the chance to check out that little bookstore a block away? Will they be a problem in terms of competition?” Scott continued and just like that Stiles’ good mood completely evaporated.

He gingerly picked up the new business card, taking in the little girl in the red hood that was picking flowers with a big smile on her face, oblivious to the danger of the black wolf lurking behind her in the shadows.

For the first time since they had started the business Stiles felt more like the big bad wolf than Red Riding Hood when he looked at his name.

 

_Stiles Stilinksi_

_CEO Red Riding Hood Inc._

 

He turned towards his best friend with a forced smile.

“Yeah … about that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear lovely 30 subscribers who had probably given up on this story: I don't believe in abandoning stories so don't worry, this will be completed. Might not be the quickest completion cycle in the history of WIPs, but it will be completed!

“You did _what_?!”

Stiles winced when Scott yelped like someone had kicked his puppy, closing his eyes in resignation when he saw the shell-shocked look on his best friend and business partner’s face.

Scott shook his head, obviously still in a state of shock. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly. I could have sworn you said you went on a _date_ with the guy we are probably – no scratch that – almost definitely going to kick out of business? What were you even _thinking_? Tell me everything, where did you take him, what did you do, whose idea was it and please god don’t tell me you _kissed_ him goodnight!”

Stiles blushed.

“Uhm – it was my idea kind of? I guess? I mean he was undressing me with his eyes first so I just – went with it. And it wasn’t anything wild, I didn’t put out or anything. I just took him to this cute little restaurant that served a pistachio pudding that was almost like the one his mom made him before she passed and … anyways, it was just dinner. And I might have kissed him goodnight a little? But there was no tongue, I swear!”

Scott was repeatedly hitting his forehead, his expression deeply pained.

“Your idea. Pistachio pudding. Dead mom. A tongue-less goodnight kiss. Stiles, this is _bad_ , really, really bad!” he exclaimed, exasperation written all over his face.

“I don’t see why,” Stiles replied grumpily, his mind filled with visions of kicking himself in the butt repeatedly. It was bad and he knew it.

“You don’t … alright, I’ll tell you why. You went and freaking bonded with this guy over the loss of family members, then took him out to a diner that served something similar to his _dead mom’s_ food, which is the most loving and considerate gesture ever and if I wasn’t so mad at you right now I’d praise your skinny ass to the heavens, and then you kissed him goodnight without tongue, all romantic and shit.”

He shook his head. “Buddy – a hookup for casual sex would have been bad enough but this? This is serious romance-edging on soulmate territory and that’s just unacceptable, I’m sorry but I can’t let you do that.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll have to. We’re going out again tomorrow.”

This time Scott hit his own forehead so hard Stiles was actually afraid his best friend was going to leave a bruise.

“Are you now, really? What’s on tomorrow’s agenda then? Ice-skating on the lake? Holding hands in front of a crackling fire in a log cabin? Making sweet, sweet love in front of the fire place after you have confessed your undying love for each other? Stiles, I know you, I know that look, this is bad! He’s going to figure out who you are eventually and it’ll break his heart and then he’ll break _your_ heart and I can’t go through another phase of “My Heart Will Go On” on endless repeat blasting from your room, I just can’t!”

Stiles crossed his arms in front of his chest. There was no way he was going to admit that they actually _were_ planning to go ice-skating tomorrow.

“I just want to see if there could be something. He’s kind, he’s smart, he’s funny and not to mention sexy and handsome as hell and if it actually goes somewhere, I can just marry him and then he won’t even care that he’ll go bankrupt because of me. Our children would be beautiful Scotty,” Stiles defended himself, aware that it was a bunch of bullcrap.

Granted, he didn’t know Derek all that well yet, but he did know that losing his family’s – his _mother’s_ – store would tear him apart. And he was also well aware that Derek would not allow Stiles to pick up the pieces in the aftermath.

“You guys can’t have children, it’s biologically impossible,” Scott grumbled, his expression suggesting that he wasn’t even going to touch Stiles’ declaration of marrying Derek to keep him from starving.

“I know. Why can’t I ever get what I want?” Stiles lamented and Scott grunted before he stood up and stretched his legs, clearly done with this conversation for now.

“You _can_ get what you want – you’re taking it right now. And it’s a move worthy of Jackson’s douchebaggery, I’m just saying.”

Stiles winced as the door to his best friend’s room slammed shut.

If he pulled out the “You’re like Jackson”-Card then Scott was _really_ upset with him.

It was fitting – he was, after all, supremely upset with himself.

Sadly, he was also, and undeniably so, head over heels in love with Derek Hale.

 

***************

 

Derek was _happy_. He was so happy he almost felt guilty about it, considering he was about to lose his store, his family inheritance, and, to be dramatic about it, the only reason he got out of bed these days.

Today was different though – today he had a date with Stiles to look forward to.

Derek was actually a pretty good skater and something was telling him that Stiles was anything but.

That was ok though, he would be able to catch him if he fell.

Derek grinned. He really had it bad if his internal dialogue was cheesy enough to gross him out a little.

He grabbed the phone off his nightstand and couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face when he reread the “Goodnight” text message Stiles had sent him last night.

Cora would have probably considered it a bit stalker-y but to Derek it was romantic and perfect. There was no doubt that Stiles cared about him and he was both nervous and excited to see where that caring might lead once they had actually gotten to know each other better.

He was still staring at his phone when a new message came in, this time from Laura.

_How did the date go? Did he trip in the snow? Erica figured he might?_

Derek sighed. His sisters – blood-related and honorary alike – were _menaces_.

**_He didn’t trip. Also, he’s never getting anywhere near you guys._ **

_THAT well, huh? Details bro! Did you put out?_

**_None of your business … he IS a good kisser though._ **

_Der-Bear, you are such a romantic. Did you read him poetry?_

**_No. Also, I hate you._ **

_Awwwwww, I hate you, too! XOXO_

Derek smiled. He was just about to type a reply when another text message came in, one that managed to make his heart flutter inside his chest.

_I’ll race your sexy ass around the lake today_

Derek couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He was quite certain that he would be the one to do the racing.

 

*****************

 

By the time Derek had taken a shower it was almost 10 and he had just poured himself a coffee when there was a loud bang at his door.

Derek was in no way surprised to find Erica standing on the other side, holding a bag filled with croissants from the coffee shop she worked at and looking mightily disgruntled.

“Laura says you kissed him – tell me _everything!_ ” she exclaimed, marching past him and seating herself at his breakfast counter without so much as a good morning.

He loved Erica, he really did, but sometimes she could be a tad bit rude.

“It was only a little kiss – and also it’s none of your business, really, so hand over the croissant and go,” Derek grumbled, groaning when Erica held the croissants out of reach.

“Here’s the deal. I’m going to cut this fluffy, perfect croissant into two pieces and I’ll slather one with plain butter and one with nutella – depending on whether or not I like your answers you’ll either get the nutella one or the butter one, so make it good,” she dictated the terms of the breakfast and Derek sunk into his chair with a sigh.

“He picked me up at the store,” he began grumpily and Erica took a bite out of the nutella-half.

“I know that part, I was there, keep going!”

Derek eyed the croissant with longing.

“We went to a cute little restaurant that had the most amazing pistachio pudding. Stiles picked it just for that reason,” he continued and Erica’s eyes widened.

“He knows about your mom’s pudding? Damn, that’s … actually a very kind move. Go on,” she said carefully, but not before tearing off a chunk of nutella-croissant and handing it to Derek with a generous expression on her face.

Derek, who was starting to feel he was being conditioned like a dog, frowned.

“Afterwards he walked me back home and when we got back to the store he kissed me goodnight. That’s all,” he mumbled, his mouth filled with croissant and Erica’s eyes glinted dangerously.

“Tell me more about the kiss, how long was it, how much tongue was involved, who initiated it?” she demanded, holding the rest of the nutella-half out of his reach when Derek made a grab for it.

“It was the perfect length, we both started it, there was no tongue and if you don’t give me that croissant I’ll fire you,” Derek answered and Erica tossed the buttered half at him, looking deeply unimpressed.

“I don’t like him, he’s sleazy,” she decided and Derek yelped in protest.

“Hey! I thought he was kind, warm and considerate?” he said and Erica rolled her eyes.

“I said kind, you just added the rest because you are wearing love goggles,” she said, her expression softening when the look on Derek’s face started to resemble hurt.

“Listen Derek I’m just … I’m sorry, alright? It just – he really does sound like he would be the perfect boyfriend for a romantic sap like you and taking you to that restaurant was really kind of him – been there by the way, had thought of taking you guys there but wasn’t sure if you would fall apart over that pudding – but maybe he’s too kind? You know what I mean?”

Derek shook his head.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” he said, probably a bit more aggressively than he had intended and Erica sighed.

“Just – be careful alright? I know you like to think romance is like a fairy tale but – it really isn’t and this is just too perfect.”

“I can’t have a perfect thing happening to me once in a while? Especially after I learned the hard way that romance _isn’t_ like a fairy tale at all?” Derek said softly and Erica’s stern expression almost crumpled.

“Of course not, it’s just – Derek, gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. We just want you to be careful, alright? Things are so complicated at the moment, we don’t want you to make them even more complicated by adding heartbreak to the situation,” she said quietly and Derek rubbed his eyes.

“Maybe he’s exactly what I need right now, to have _something_ to look forward to. I did inventory the other week and you know what? It’s almost the end of the month and at this point nothing short of a miracle will allow me to pay all the bills for the store and my place for more than two more months, three months tops. I’m running out of time and with that new _Red_ s store opening up in two weeks I might just as well give up. Life is shitty right now and I’d appreciate it if my closest friends and family would stop bitching to me about the _one_ thing that’s not shitty at the moment!” he said, voice growing more and more agitated.

Erica held up her hands in a defensive motion.

“Just promise me you’ll not fall too quickly, alright? Get to know him first, see if Mr. Perfect is really that perfect. You know nothing about him!” she said and Derek shook his head.

“Not true, I know his favorite color is red and he loves his jeep,” he muttered, sighing when Erica rolled her eyes in frustration.

“ _Red_? How ironic, if you think about it. What does he do for a living, what are his dreams in life, why is he not in a relationship right now if he’s so perfect? Those are the things you should be wondering about, not his relationship with some rusty car,” she muttered and Derek shrugged.

“We are going out again today, I can ask him then,” he said sharply and Erica gawked at him.

“Again? Oh Derek, you can’t promise me you won’t fall too quickly, you already did. Great.”

“Maybe I did. And that’s why I’m kicking you out now, I have to get ready,” Derek said in response and Erica got up from her chair with a longing look at her still full coffee-cup.

“You know that I love you Derek, right? I don’t want to see you get hurt and I just – I just have a gut feeling I can’t shake that there’s more to this kid than what you’re seeing,” she said softly and Derek grunted.

“I’m pissed at you right now but I love the crap out of you, you _menace_. That won’t save you from me slamming the door in your face in a very dramatic fashion in about two seconds though,” he said darkly and Erica grabbed her bag with a sigh.

Of course Derek didn’t slam the door in her face, but his good mood was effectively ruined.

Not because of Erica’s unfounded suspicions about Stiles, but because she was right – he had fallen head over heels in love with someone who was very much still a stranger and if that wasn’t a plot twist straight out of a very bad romance novel Derek didn’t know what was.

He knew what it was like to be in desperate love with someone who didn’t share his feelings – or at least not to that extent –and as he walked back into his bedroom to decide on an outfit, he prayed that he wouldn’t end up making the same mistakes again.

 

=================

 

They had agreed to meet at the tiny gazebo at the lake and when Derek got there, Stiles was nervously hopping from one leg to the other, his cheeks rosy from the cold and clutching something white and fluffy in his arms.

Derek smiled at him, his eyebrows rising in confusion when Stiles’ cheeks became even rosier as he presented the contents of his arms to Derek.

“A stuffed animal?” Derek asked politely and Stiles cleared his throat.

“It’s Falcor from _The Neverending Story_. Actually it’s not, it’s a fluffy white dog but all the dragon shaped toys they had were green or purple and looked like that stupid Barney. This was the closet I could get. Do you like it? Don’t answer, of course you don’t. I just thought it would be nice because it’s a luck dragon and I want you to get lucky – hold on that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it that way, unless of course you want to eventually, then I maybe meant it that way but all I meant for now is that I know that things are looking a little tough right now and I thought you could use something to cheer you up and I really … umpfh.”

Stiles’ rambling was cut short when Derek grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss, a deeper one with tongue this time and Stiles seemed to adapt to the new situation quickly, almost melting into Derek when he wrapped his arms around him and moaned softly into the kiss.

Derek’s stubble was rubbing against his chin but his lips were soft despite the cold air and the contrast made Stiles’ knees go weak.

Derek wasn’t wearing a hat – a silly thing to do in winter, didn’t he know that a lot of body heat was lost through the head? – and Stiles grasped his face with his gloved hands, pulling him in and trying to shield him from the wind at the same time.

When they separated Derek’s eyes were soft and twinkling and when he smiled, lips plump and swollen from their kiss, Stiles’ stomach plummeted to this feet.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” Derek said quietly and leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss against Stiles’ nose.

“Now how about that race you promised?” he said when he withdrew and Stiles uttered a shaky laugh.

“Race? I must have been delirious. You just kissed the muscle-definition out of me, I don’t even think I can walk anymore, let alone skate,” he decided and Derek laughed.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall, I promise,” he said and Stiles’ inner voice, the one that insisted on doing a cheesy rom-com commentary at the most inopportune moments, started firing off puns about how hard he was falling alright.

Stiles decided to ignore that voice for now.

He was much more occupied with taking in every word, every glance, every smile Derek was directing at him, aware that he was probably smiling like a doofus when Derek gently pulled him on the ice and began to lead him alongside the outer edge of the lake.

The moment Derek let go of his hand Stiles began to flail and two seconds later he was sitting on the ice, a dumbfounded expression on his face as he rubbed his stinging tailbone.

“Don’t laugh!” he warned Derek, whose eyes were still twinkling, albeit a bit concerned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised and pulled him back up, offering Stiles some nice fantasy material about his upper body strength.

“You better hold on to me then, I’ll just repeat this exercise in shame,” Stiles promised and Derek’s arm wrapped around his waist.

“I can do that,” he laughed and before Stiles had a chance to react Derek grasped his hips with both arms and began to twirl him around in a circle.

“No, wait, Derek! We’ll fall, Derek! I’m going to be dizzy, I’ll …” Stiles protested, his protest cut short by the breathless laughter that escaped him as Derek pulled him closer again, flush against his body.

Their next kiss was even more heated than the last and Stiles was really grateful that Derek was in charge of holding him upright, because really, how could one expect a man to not fall apart when kissed senseless by the kind, intelligent, romantic – and smoking hot – perfection that was Derek Hale.

“If this kiss gets any more heated we are going to melt the ice,” Stiles finally mumbled and Derek threw his head back and laughed, a full belly laugh that made Stiles’ entire body tingle with happiness.

“You are – really bad with flowery language,” Derek finally decided and Stiles wiggled his eyebrows.

“Just wait till I dig out my best puns. I don’t want to promise too much, but I might be the king of puns and you will probably end up worshipping them at my feet – pun intended.”

Derek smiled fondly.

“That was a really forced pun,” he decided and Stiles shrugged.

“What can I say, performance anxiety is a dreadful condition,” he explained and Derek shook his head.

“I would hope not,” he grinned and Stiles blinked once, twice, before a big smile spread over his face.

“Can I buy you dinner tomorrow night?” he asked and Derek laughed.

“A third date?”

“Definitely a third date,” Stiles confirmed and Derek cocked his head with a gentle smile.

He knew they were moving too fast, he knew he probably shouldn’t suggest it, but Stiles had bought him a stuffed animal and he hadn’t stopped looking at him as if he was the most precious gift he had ever laid eyes on since he had gotten to the lake.

Stiles was in this just as much as he was and Derek needed to be closer to him, caution be damned.

“If it’s alright with you, how about I cook for you at my place tomorrow night? I’m a good cook, my mother taught me how and I just – I’d really like to do this for you. As a thank you, for my dragon,” he said hesitantly.

Stiles’ smile got even brighter.

“I would love to Derek. I can’t wait.”

 

================

 

“Why did you buy him a stuffed animal?” was the first thing out of Scott’s mouth when Stiles came home that evening and his happy feeling of walking on a cloud disappeared almost immediately.

“Going through my receipts is really not the bro-thing to do,” Stiles snapped and Scott shrugged.

“You left it on the middle of the counter. Don’t change the subject. Why did you buy him a stuffed animal?”

Stiles pulled off his jacket jerkily, aware that his sudden anger at Scott had more to do with the guilty feeling that had nagged at the back of his mind ever since he had accepted Derek’s dinner invitation – and the very clear promise of more.

“I thought it would be nice, alright? There’s an image of Falcor the luck dragon above the door of his store and the book means a lot to him and I thought it would be nice to give him a little stuffed toy that looked like Falcor,” Stiles said and Scott let out a pained whine.

“You did not. Stiles, really? Really? That’s …” Scott trailed off and the look on his face spoke of deep disappointment.

“I know it maybe wasn’t my best idea, but Scott, I just really …” Stiles began, only to be interrupted when Scott slammed his fist on the counter.

“Not your best idea? You gave him a stuffed animal that symbolizes the store that we are going to run into the ground when we open our new location? Stiles, ‘not your best idea’ doesn’t even begin to cut it. That’s just downright cruel!”

“I know Scott, alright? Leave me alone, I know what I’m doing!” Stiles barked, although he really had no idea what he was doing at all.

“You have no clue what you’re doing right now,” Scott accused him and Stiles sighed, suddenly hating the fact that Scott knew him so well.

“He’s cooking me dinner at his place tomorrow night,” Stiles whispered and Scott’s face turned beet-red, before his anger suddenly seemed to evaporate into thin air.

“Dinner. Tomorrow. Alright. Stiles, buddy, listen to me. I know that you’re not thinking this through right now, because you never think things through when you fall for someone, but you just _can’t_ fall for the person we’re kicking out of business next month, it’s just not possible. So you’re going to that dinner tomorrow and if you want to do the decent thing, you’ll have dinner, excuse yourself politely afterwards and then delete his number and hope that he doesn’t attend the opening. Alternatively, you are going to go that dinner tomorrow and after dinner you will sleep with him to get him out of your system – and I would like to add that I’m _not_ advocating for this course of action at all – and then afterwards you will delete his number and never see him again. Both options are pretty shitty but honestly, neither is as cruel as that stuffed animal so you really cannot sink any lower.”

Stiles closed his eyes.

“I messed up Scotty,” he mumbled into his hands and Scott sighed.

“Majorly so, buddy. Majorly so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The Third Date after which Derek is very happy and Stiles just wants to go drown himself in a bucket of contempt

**Author's Note:**

> Next Up:  
> Scott is exasperated, Derek is happy, Stiles is feeling guilty and Erica just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Derek’s new boyfriend than meets the eye. 
> 
> The angst is only just beginning.


End file.
